


Flooded

by sapphirescribe



Series: Mating Games [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: mating_games, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Scenting, flangst, unapologetic Buffy references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirescribe/pseuds/sapphirescribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been together for years, but Derek is still holding back. Stiles has had enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flooded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venis_envy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy/gifts).



> This was written for the fourth week of the Mating Games fest hosted on LJ (#35). We're supposed to write 500-750 words and this nearly 3k monstrosity came out. I blame venis_envy.
> 
> Thanks go to motimetostart, as always, and to C for the beta.
> 
> Please see the end note for a potential trigger warning.

"Do it, I'm ready," Stiles panted.

"No," Derek said, maintaining the steady rhythm of his hips.

"Please," Stiles begged.

The need to let his knot form, to bury it and himself deep inside Stiles, to mate and own and protect, grew more difficult to suppress every day. Stiles begging him for it, pleading for this piece of Derek he'd not yet given, pushed him to the edge of his willpower. He wanted it with every fiber of his being. Wanted Stiles more than he'd wanted anything in his life.

"No," he repeated hoarsely into the sweat-soaked skin of Stiles' neck.

Strong hands found his shoulders and pushed.

"Get off," Stiles said.

Derek moved his mouth lower and rolled his hips.

"Seriously. Get off me, Derek."

It was the tone, more than the words, that broke through the lust haze in his brain.

"What?"

"Get off of me. Now."

"You didn't come," Derek said stupidly.

"It doesn't matter."

Derek pulled out and sat up when Stiles continued to push him away. When Stiles started to pull on his jeans, Derek snapped out of his confusion. The stench of anxiety and rejection pouring off of Stiles lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

"You're leaving." Derek said flatly.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're not that stupid, Derek. Playing dumb doesn't suit you."

Lost for words, he watched Stiles sift through their discarded clothing on the floor as he looked for his shirt.

"When will you get it in your head that I'm not going anywhere? I don't want anyone else."

"I do get that."

"Then the only other conclusion is that you might want someone else. Or at least the option of someone else. I can't live like that. Knowing that."

"I don't want someone else." He heard the anger in his own voice.

"Then why won't you give me your knot?"

"Because it means you can't change your mind!" Derek shouted.

"I don't want to change my mind. I won't. But if you want to, it's okay."

The angrier Derek felt, the more Stiles calmed. It was one of the reasons they were so good together. They balanced each other perfectly.

"You've lost so much and lived with so much pain. You deserve to be happy. I don't want to stand in the way of that."

Derek felt the anger leave as quickly as it had come. "But I love you."

"I love you, too, Derek." Stiles held his face in his hands. "So much. But apparently it's not enough."

Stiles kissed him. And then he was gone.

\---

They had a pack meeting a week later. Stiles smelled sad and hurt, but otherwise seemed fine. He wasn't _not_ talking to Derek, but it was as if the last four years—their whole relationship—hadn't happened. Stiles' clothes had disappeared from their apartment the morning after the full moon, replaced with the scent of regret and Scott's disappointment.

They were trying to track down a water demon, but couldn't figure the best way to kill it. Stiles presented his latest strategy for defeating the creature, but Derek barely listened. He focused instead on the curve of Stiles' mouth, the movement of his hands as he gestured through his speech, the rate of his breathing, the sound of his heart. When Derek tried to get him one-on-one after the meeting was over, Stiles gave him a sad smile and told him Scott was his ride home.

"This is your home," Derek said, barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child.

"Has anything changed?" Stiles asked.

Derek had no idea how to answer.

Stiles brought his hand to Derek's face, cupping his cheek. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Derek's, closing his eyes.

Hope bloomed in Derek's chest. Stiles wanted to come back. Derek wanted that more than anything.

He took a deep breath, inhaling Stiles' scent, which had faded from the apartment quicker than he thought it should. As Derek was about to pull Stiles in closer, Stiles pulled away.

"'Bye."

\---

Derek was at loose ends. He didn't know when the knotting became a big deal to Stiles, but he understood at least that it was. They'd talked about the physiology of it and Stiles had even watched him jack off with the knot a couple times. They'd talked about the meaning behind it as well—the meaning of actual mating. Derek guessed he hadn't explained it well enough. Hadn't explained the permanence or the irrevocability of it.

Knotting would mean Stiles was _it_ for Derek. He only got one shot at mating. The knot meant pack and mate and love and forever. It was the most permanent thing he could do, save giving someone the bite or dying.

But Derek was ready, on board, more than okay with Stiles being it for him. That was already true, with or without the physical act of knotting. That wasn't the holdout. The holdout, if Derek was going to be honest with himself, was that he couldn't do it to Stiles. He couldn't bind Stiles to him without Stiles fully understanding the implications of the act.

But, Derek considered, what if Stiles _did_ understand the implications? What if Derek had actually explained how it all worked and Stiles had listened and he _got_ it? Stiles was pretty fucking smart. He'd probably done some of his own research, too.

Derek's heart pounded.

If Stiles got it, if he really understood what knotting meant—to werewolves and to Derek—and he asked for it and Derek turned him down...

Fuck.

Derek was actually that dumb.

He grabbed his keys from the counter as he sprinted out the door. He drove to Scott's place as quickly as possible but his heart dropped when Stiles' Jeep wasn't in the parking lot.

A text came in while he sat for a moment contemplating his next move.

SCOTT: He's at his dad's.

Derek looked up at the building and saw Scott looking out the window of his sixth-floor apartment.

SCOTT: Don't fuck it up  
SCOTT: again

Derek nodded up at Scott, then peeled out of the parking lot.

He didn't realize he was still holding his phone until it vibrated in his hand. When he saw the screen display "Stiles", he smiled for the first time in weeks.

"I'm so glad you called," he said in greeting. "I figured it out. I know why you thought I wanted someone else. I don't, though. I only want you. Forever. Stiles Stilinski, will you do me the honor of letting me knot you?" He said it all in one breath and with a bit of a laugh. He knew it was cheesy, treating it like a proposal, but it kind of was and he knew Stiles would appreciate it.

"Derek!" Stiles shouted on the other end. He sounded panicked and frantic.

Before Derek could even respond, he heard a splash and a clatter and the line went dead. He wouldn't panic. Stiles had proven time and time again that he was capable of dealing with the supernatural. But he was also human and therefore vulnerable. Derek refused to lose Stiles now, not when he had just figured things out.

It felt like a lifetime before the sheriff's house was in view. The Jeep was out front, the driver's side door open and the engine still running. Derek reached in to turn off the ignition and was hit with the overwhelming stench of rotting fish. A shout and the sickening crunch of bones breaking rang out from the back yard once the Jeep was silent.

The torn sleeve of Stiles' hoodie lay in a puddle on the cement patio. The rotting-fish smell was overwhelming there, and he could hear Stiles' voice from past the tree line at the back of the yard. When Derek burst through the trees into the clearing a few yards into the woods, it took him a moment to process what he was seeing.

Stiles stood, soaking wet, over a scaly, bloody figure on the ground. He was smashing an aluminum bat over and over onto the head of the creature, shouting something about a copper repipe.

Derek only paused for a breath to take it all in—and make sure the only heartbeat he heard was Stiles'—before he ran to Stiles and pulled him away from the bloody, battered pile that used to be a water demon.

"How did you? Fuck, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry," Derek babbled unable to stop touching Stiles. He ran his hands up and down Stiles' sides, touching his neck and face, his forearms and hands, making sure Stiles was okay, unharmed.

"I heard what you said, before... before the thing attacked me," Stiles said. "Did you mean it? Do you really get that I don't want to be anywhere else? With anyone else?"

"God, yes. I'm so sorry, Stiles. I'm so fucking sorry. And I've missed you so much."

"Me too," Stiles said, and then he was kissing Derek. A coil of tension around Derek's heart unraveled with the kiss, with the taste of Stiles once again. He inhaled deeply, needing to smell his mate, and broke away coughing. Stiles _reeked_ of rotting fish.

"Jesus, you stink."

"Ugh, that thing was disgusting and it was all over me."

The need to possess Stiles, to cover him in his scent, to finally formalize their bond, was overpowering. He kissed Stiles again, reveling in the taste of his mate, even if the smell was all wrong. Derek grabbed Stiles under his ass, picking him up and encouraging Stiles to wrap his legs around him, and walked them into the house and up the stairs.

He broke away once they reached the bathroom, and only long enough to turn on the shower and pull Stiles in with him. Derek wasted no time in tearing Stiles' clothes off and tossed the sopping garments onto the tile floor outside of the shower cubicle. Stiles worked Derek's shirt out of his pants and off.

Derek struggled with his own pants, and momentarily regretted not undressing _before_ getting into the shower, but then he was naked and Stiles was naked and it was _good_. 

Time seemed to slow. They stood under the warm spray of the shower and held each other until their breaths slowed to a regular rhythm, and there was no more fear of loss. Derek took the next long minutes washing Stiles from head to toe. Foregoing a washcloth, he lathered the soap directly in his hands, and rubbed it into Stiles' skin. Derek started at his shoulders, moved over the lean lines of his back, the curve of his ass, down his slender thighs and calfs. He made Stiles lift each of his feet to be washed in turn, before he started to wash Stiles' front.

He made sure to run his soapy hands over every inch of Stiles' soft, pale skin. It was an attempt to cleanse Stiles of the water demon's stench, yes, but it was also an apology and an affirmation of his feelings.

The water ran cold before Derek was done, but Stiles let him continue. Stiles had always given Derek the freedom to appease his wolf, sometimes understanding what it needed more than Derek. Stiles had never taken the wolf-aspects of Derek lightly and Derek should have known that included the significance of knotting. He'd probably understood it before Derek had even explained.

When Derek finished washing Stiles, he turned off the water and reached for a towel. He ran it over Stiles' head and draped it around his shoulders.

Derek fidgeted with the towel, running his fingers along the edge and brushing against Stiles' clean, damp skin. Momentarily bashful, he couldn't look Stiles in the eye when he asked, "Do you still want my knot?"

"Fuck yes," Stiles said with an incredulous laugh. "I thought you said you got it." 

Stiles brought his hand to Derek's chin and tilted his face so they were nose to nose, looking into each other's eyes. "I only want you. I know what mating means to you. I understand it's forever. I want that."

"God, I love you," Derek breathed, and then his mouth was on Stiles' again, their tongues tangling as they stumbled their way across the hall into the bedroom Stiles hadn't occupied since he moved in with Derek two years prior.

He'd been so determined not to trap Stiles in a relationship he might regret later, he didn't realize Stiles had already made his choice. Derek's need to mate, to consummate, was fierce. He pushed Stiles onto the bed and grabbed the lube from the nightstand drawer.

He carefully worked Stiles open on his fingers. By the time he was sure Stiles could take the knot with minimal pain, Stiles was writhing and gasping on the bed, fingernails digging crescent shapes into Derek's forearms. He wished those marks would stay forever, wished he could have an imprint of Stiles on his skin for everyone to see.

"Jesus _fuck_ , Derek. You have to fuck me now," Stiles begged.

Slowly, Derek eased his cock in. He paused when he was fully seated inside; he could hardly believe he was back there, given this opportunity again.

"I almost lost you," he whispered into Stiles' mouth. "In so many ways. Never letting you go again."

"Works for me," Stiles replied, and wrapped his arms around Derek's back.

Derek moved slowly at first, withdrawing and pushing back in at a snail's pace, wanting only to savor every second of the experience of being with Stiles again. As Stiles began to sweat, Derek buried his nose in Stiles' neck, inhaling deep breaths of the scent he'd been without for far too long. It smelled like _mate_. He felt his knot start to grow and, this time, didn't suppress it. Rather, he buried himself inside Stiles and let go.

Stiles inhaled sharply; Derek heard his heart race, but Stiles didn't release his hold on him.

"Does it hurt?" Derek asked when he smelled the sharp tang of Stiles' pain.

"A little. But it's good. Don't stop," Stiles panted.

Derek's knot continued to swell; he rolled his hips so he was still moving, but no longer tried to thrust in and out. Using the precome pooled on his stomach to slick Stiles' cock, he stroked Stiles roughly, rubbing his thumb against his frenulum with every pass, trying to bring Stiles off quickly.

"Fuck, _yes_ ," Stiles whimpered into Derek's shoulder. "So good."

It didn't take long before Stiles came in warm bursts over his stomach and Derek's hand. His whole body stiffened, muscles clenching and releasing through his orgasm. Derek felt every little twitch right in his cock, surrounding his knot, and it was altogether too much. He came with a shout, and pressed his pelvis hard against Stiles' ass, pushing his knot as deep inside as humanly possible.

He rubbed his hand through the mess on Stiles' stomach before bringing it to his mouth and sucking the mixture of come and sweat off his fingers. 

Stiles kissed him through his come-covered fingers. It was awkward and messy, but the taste and smell and feel of Stiles utterly _wrecked_ Derek, and he felt another wave of come leave him with a shiver.

"How is it?" Stiles asked quietly, moments later.

Derek grunted.

Stiles' responding laughter shook them, jostling Derek's dick inside him and forcing another rush of come out of him.

"Jesus," Stiles said. "It's weird. I didn't think I'd be able to feel _everything_."

"Are you--" Derek started. "I mean, do you wish we hadn't...?"

"Seriously? Don't piss me off now. I will get up out of this bed."

Derek looked down where they were locked together, then back up at Stiles with an eyebrow raised in question.

"Okay, so maybe I won't get up. But I will be cranky. You won't like me when I'm cranky."

"I like you any way I can get you."

"Thank God for that. Because I'm pretty sure you can't get rid of me now."

Derek kissed him.

"Don't want to."

**Author's Note:**

> There's a very brief moment that could be considered nonconsensual. Stiles tells Derek to stop but Derek doesn't stop immediately. It is not a major plot point, and it's over very quickly, but I thought I should mention it.


End file.
